


Toss a Coin to Your Witcher, He Needs a Drink

by NekoMida



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Ghost hands, Ghosts, Haunted house with ghost attached, M/M, excited to be married brings a ghost back, ghost affection, ghost jaskier, marrying a ghost brings them back to life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 07:35:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26469532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NekoMida/pseuds/NekoMida
Summary: Geralt had been sent to take care of the ghost problem. The ghost problem attached itself to Geralt.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 3
Kudos: 119
Collections: Jump Scare 2020





	Toss a Coin to Your Witcher, He Needs a Drink

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mornelithe_falconsbane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mornelithe_falconsbane/gifts).



Geralt was fucked.

Not only had he managed to stumble into a contract with a haunted dwelling, but he’d managed to get the absolute worst thing attached to him: a ghost. Not just any ghost, mind you, but the ghost of a rather nosy and handsy bard who wouldn’t leave him the fuck alone.

“Please, please Geralt! If we do this then I can move on and then you can go off and traipse around the world, making coin and all that.” Said ghost was currently flying around him, the eerie strings of his mandolin floating alongside him. They were playing along in little ditties, the ghost humming along to the stupid song that he’d managed glean from Geralt’s travels.

“Jaskier. Shut up.” Geralt replied gruffly, annoyed at the musical interlude that was permeating the air and disturbing his peace of mind. There would be absolutely no way he’d marry this damn ghost, even if it got rid of him in the long run. 

“Okay, okay. Sourpuss.” Jaskier frowned, before ruffling Geralt’s hair with chilly hands. “You should really relax, Geralt. There’s nothing holding you down while hunting monsters, so you should just get a room and take a breather.” 

Something unintelligible muttered under Geralt’s breath, and Jaskier paused, hoping to catch what he said. “What was that?”

“Nothing.” As if he was really considering marrying this ghost so he could just get back to his business and be done with it; getting a boggart would have been more pleasant than the bard’s soothing vocals and his chilled tongue on Geralt’s neck at night, trying to latch onto him as if he were still alive.

It took approximately two days of non-stop sexual harassment from Jaskier before Geralt caved, nostrils flaring angrily as he took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down.

“Oooh, that face, scary face. That gets me going.” Jaskier was teasing him, and Geralt held out the plain silver ring that would disappear once Jaskier put it on. “Is that what I think it is?”

“It sure is. Now put it on.”

“Wonderful! I’ve always wanted to be married, you know, although I never thought that I’d be dead when I did it, and you’re certainly not a countess, but I think that’s much better truthfully…”

Geralt was getting more annoyed by the minute. “Just put the damn thing on, Jaskier.”

The ghost did as he was asked, and the silver shone brightly in the light, fading into the mist of Jaskier’s form. “It’s lovely, Geralt, thank you.” Geralt could swear there were tears in Jaskier’s eyes, and he nodded.

“You’re my husband. A witcher might be poor, but it is pure silver. The absolute best.”

Jaskier started to fade away, and Geralt felt a lump grow in his throat. They’d been together for months now, travelling the countryside, and now...now Jaskier was leaving. He’d never felt that way before; it was always something else entirely that took over him. Now, it was loneliness.

The ghost seemed to notice, and he ruffled Geralt’s hair. “Who knew that deep down, you were a huge softie? Not at all what people see a witcher as.”

“Fuck off, bard.” Playful, yet sad, and when the chill left the air, Geralt turned around, unsure of what to do. He’d lost another person he’d started to care about, and the heartache would have to drown in liquor.

“Geralt?” Jaskier’s voice sounded behind him, and Geralt whirled around to see a very corporeal bard standing in front of him--minus the mandolin. “I don’t understand…”

“Don’t question it. If you can be a ghost, then you can come back.” As if it were really that simple. Geralt truthfully didn’t know what the fuck had just happened, but he was...happy...that it did. “I’m glad to see you.”

“I think I might die again , Geralt of Rivia praising my triumphant return?” Jaskier grinned just as Geralt made a move to sock him in the stomach, dodging out of the way. “Easy. And here I thought you didn’t like me.”

“I don’t. It’s lonely drinking by yourself, though.” Geralt sighed, and pushed a hand through his snow-white locks.

The ghost problem was now a permanent problem. But perhaps one he could tolerate.


End file.
